Betrayal
Author: Kevin Potter
Date: 2018-08-02 04:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Fantasy
Description: ***Note*** Not available in stores. This story is available exclusively from the author's mailing list. Get a copy at http://signup.kevinpotterauthor.com Enter the mind of a villain bent on the destruction of the human race. In the days before the Long Sleep, Sura counsels war against Humankind as a matter of draconic survival. But Graayyya, a garnet wyrm raised by metallics, thwarts him at every turn. When the human kings demand too much of the dragons, Sura finds an unexpected ally that brings him one step closer to victory. But with the Council of Elders against him, time is running out. Wh
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Blood of the Dragons: Betrayal

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© 2018 Kevin Potter

Cover art by Dragan Paunovik
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All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

BLOOD
OF THE
DRAGONS

VOLUME
ZERO

BETRAYAL

TIMELINE:

This is an approximate timeline of events for the various books of Blood of the Dragons and The Calamity.

**Note** I am using the new standard for dates (C.E. or Common Era, formerly known as A.D. and B.C.E. or Before Common Era, formerly known as B.C.)

***Note 2*** All dates are approximate and intended for reference as relative to one another only.

65,000,000 B.C.E.       —             Prologue to Blood of the Dragons book 0, Betrayal

670-666 B.C.E.             —             Blood of the Dragons book 0, Betrayal

666 B.C.E.             —             Prologue to Metal and Stone: The Awakening

2010 C.E.             —             Metal and Stone: The Awakening (up to chapter 12)

2035 C.E.             —             Prologue to The Fall of an Overlord

2250 C.E.             —             Remainder of Metal and Stone: The Awakening

2375 C.E.             —             Metal and Stone: Fire and Ice

2700 C.E.             —             Metal and Stone: Blood and Scales

2702 C.E.             —             Metal and Stone: The Age of Extinction, book 1

3050 C.E.             —             Metal and Stone: The Age of Extinction, book 2

3100 C.E.             —             Untitled book: Blood of the Dragons, volume 2

14,000 C.E.             —             The Fall of an Overlord

14,001 C.E.             —             Rise of the Overlord (chapters 1-3)

14,100 C.E.             —             Prologue to Rise of the Overlord

14,125 C.E.             —             Remainder of Rise of the Overlord

14,280 C.E.             —             Prologue to Shadow of the Overlord

14,650 C.E.             —             Shadow of the Overlord, book 1

14,660 C.E.             —             Shadow of the Overlord, book 2

Contents

TIMELINE OF EVENTS

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

EPILOGUE

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PROLOGUE

GRAETOUL TWISTED IN the air, banking sharply to his left to avoid the flyer plummeting toward him from above.

The winged creature wheeled about, turning to face him from above as it issued a mad shriek from its beaked maw. The sickly yellow eyes burned with rage.

Repressing a sigh at this inevitable, and pointless, confrontation, Grae angled his wings downward, hoping to catch the burning light of Ryujin’s Blaze.

With a second, sharper shriek, the flyer bolted toward him.

With a deeper downward twist of his wing, the light flared dully off his mottled green and brown scales. Shifting slightly, he angled the vague rays of colored light into the flyer’s face.

The creature shrieked again and dove toward him.

Well that didn’t work, Grae thought as he pulled a wing in tight and banked, narrowly dodging the creature. He struck it with the tip of his tail as it flew past.

Without wasting another instant, he thrust his wing back out and arced up over the top of the flyer, shooting past it. Mustering all his strength, he pumped his wings as hard as he could toward the mountainous ridge in the near distance.

A shriek echoed behind him, longer and louder than those previous. He tried to ignore it, putting all his energy and attention into propelling himself forward.

His wings ached by the time he reached the ridge, and while the shrieks still sounded behind him, each sounded more distant that its predecessor.

Angling upward, he crested the ridge with little more than a claw-width between his slender form and the blade of rock. Immediately, he angled back down and banked hard to shoot inside the old, familiar cave a few wingspans down from the crest of the ridge on its leeward side.

Dropping to the floor of the cave, he froze, scarcely daring to breathe.

I just saved your life, little flyer, he thought. Though I don’t expect you’ll ever even understand that, much less acknowledge it. Or thank me for it.

Unlike most of his kind, Graetoul did not relish destroying the unintelligent creatures. It seemed wrong to him, somehow, to simply kill the lesser creatures. Shouldn’t they be trying to help them? As the greater, more intelligent species, wasn’t it their duty to protect the lesser, weaker ones? Even from themselves, if necessary?

The sound of small, leathery wings beating the air floated down from above and Grae held his breath.

A moment later, the small brownish creature flew past the cave opening and kept on flying.

He exhaled and let himself breathe normally.

Something needs to be done, he decided. This can’t continue. We need to find a way to co-exist with the lizards. If something doesn’t change, we’re going to end up destroying them. Not just the flyers, but all the hundreds, perhaps thousands of different species of them. We’ll destroy them all if we don’t do something about this.

Standing, he went to the cave mouth and sniffed at the air. “First things first. We need to come together. Form some sort of ruling council so we can establish rules for all of our kind to live by. It has to start there. Nothing else works if we don’t have that first.”

He sniffed again, hoping to catch the scent of the larger dragon he’d seen around these cliffs before. She might well kill him, he knew, as she likely considered this her territory. But it had to start somewhere. There was no way he’d convince his kind to save the lizards if they couldn’t even coexist with each other first.

CHAPTER ONE

The cool spring air whistled through the cracks and crevices of the enormous granite audience hall, a long-standing annexation of the Royal Keep near the center of Prydein.

Two dragons, one with scales of glittering garnet, while the other’s were shining black agate, glided down in wide circles, on opposite sides of the immense hall.

The pair landed almost simultaneously, less than two wingspans from the massive doors leading into the audience hall.

A slight sneer touching his lips, the agate wyrm moved to stand near the garnet.

“Thank you for coming,” she said.

Vordillainsura bristled. This was most irregular. The human king should have come to them for audience, not the other way around.

He felt certain she thought differently, but then, the Lady of Prydein was practically half-metallic herself. If she had her way, every dragon across the Earth would be at the constant beck and call of some human or another.

“What do you suppose he wants?” Sura growled. He saw no reason to waste time with pleasantries.

“I doubt even he knows.” Her voice sounded light, almost musical.

Sura only just kept himself from snarling at her. “Then why did you insist I come?”

Graayyyavalllia turned to face him, golden eyes shining in the bright light of Ryujin’s Blaze. “To present a united front.” Her voice was matter-of-fact. “The human leaders around the globe have been testing us in recent years, to see what they can get away with. How far they can push us. How much they can demand of us. They need to see us together, with one will. ”

Sura forced out a frustrated breath.

“Although we must keep our relations cordial,” she said pointedly. “We need to show them, together, that we will not be pushed. We will not be controlled. We will not be commanded. That we have reached the limit of our tolerance for commands.”

“But why me? Why not one of the wyrms from your own island? Or at least your own domain?”

“Precisely because you are not within my domain. You are not compelled to do my bidding any more than any dragon must obey a council member. But as the wyrm over the other major group of Celtic peoples, the two of us acting in unison sends exactly the right message.”

He gave a slight not.

“Do you understand?”

He scowled.

“Vordillainsura!” She snapped.

He narrowed his eyes in irritation. “Yes. I understand. Can we get this over with?”

The garnet nodded.

Ahead, the massive oak doors leading into the huge structure swung wide and a single human emerged. He was covered in the silly bits of leather and iron his kind used for protection, as though such flimsy materials could stop a dragon’s tooth or claw. Much less their elemental breath.

Sura almost laughed.

“Th– the king will… will see you now,” the little man stammered. He kept his eyes downcast and seemed to be trembling.

Sura blinked in annoyance, but his garnet companion gave a magnanimous bow of her head and said with surprising grace, “Please. Lead us in.”

The human gave a shaky bow of his own head, then spun on his heel and moved back through the massive doors rather more quickly than protocol demanded.

Sura rolled his eyes. “Must we continue this farce?”

Graayyya turned her head to face him and gave a small smile. “Sura, my disagreeable friend, I realize how much you dislike this. But understand, renewed hostilities with the Humans serves none of us. Do you remember the last time?”

He gave a defiant nod.

“Do you recall that we left huge swaths of land uninhabitable, even by our own kind? I have no wish to leave that kind of destruction in my wake again. Do you?”

“No.” He muttered the word as though it were a curse. He hated being forced to agree with the garnet.

By virtue of being a member of the ruling Draconic Council as well as the Lady of Prydein, and therefore the official ruling body over all the Celtic peoples, she was technically above him in the draconic hierarchy. But even still, he could not bring himself to see her as having power over him. No wyrm raised by a metallic would ever be worthy of his respect.

“No living human remembers the last time we came into direct conflict with them–“

“War,” he snapped, cutting her off.

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“It was war, not conflict. Call it what it was.”

The garnet sighed. “You are correct, of course. The point, though, is no human remembers the last war. We do. They are bound to repeat the mistakes which led to it. It is in human nature to repeat the mistakes of the past. They do this even when they do remember them!”

“So?” Sura growled. What did the human propensity for repeating their mistakes have to do with him?

She sighed again. “Sura, since we are the ones who remember, we are the ones who have to rise above those past mistakes and prevent them from spilling over into war again.”

Sura growled deep in his chest. He did not like where this seemed to be going. “Just what are you saying, exactly?”

“I’m saying that as long as Gurgastius’s requests are not too outrageous, we should endeavor not to offend him. Maintaining peaceful interaction is more important than our pride. But as I said, he needs to see that we are united and will not acquiesce to unreasonable demands.”

This nonsense again, Sura thought. It was a point they had disagreed on often. He didn’t see the sense in renewing the old argument though, so he kept silent. Above any other consideration, this was neither the time nor the place for it.

The last thing they needed was for the Humans to see them squabbling. The less united they appeared, the weaker they would seem, and the more likely Gurgastius would take the initiative and launch an attack or make some ludicrous demand.

And as much as Vordillainsura welcomed the chance to destroy the Humans, he wanted it to happen on his terms. When he chose.

With a frustrated sigh, he dipped his head down beneath the height of the garnet’s, though only just. The message, he knew, would be clear. He would accept her decision in this, at least for now. But he was none-too-pleased about doing so.

She gave a curt nod, then turned and followed the human through the doors into King Gurgastius’s Draconic Audience Chamber.

Sura followed more slowly, casting furtive glances in every direction as he passed below the archway. This whole situation stank of an ambush.

Much like the doors, the audience chamber was far larger than any human had a need for. Although he’d been inside it many times, every time he found its size almost incredible.

This is how humans should treat dragons, he thought, remembering the story Graayyyavalllia had told him of the creation of this edifice. Much of the gray stone castle attached to it had already been there for decades, but it was only at Graayyya’s direction that they had constructed this chamber, making it large enough to house a dozen full-grown dragons comfortably.

The ceiling stood close to three wingspans tall— more than twice Sura’s considerable height, though he could reach it if he reared up and stretched his neck —while the chamber was close to a dozen in width, and stretched half a hundred in length. He doubted there was another construction like it anywhere in the world.

Impressive as it was, he still found it almost incredible, even for her, that Graayyyavalllia had actually helped in the physical construction of the building. Why would she degrade herself in such a way?

Glancing around the vast chamber, Sura narrowed his eyes. The walls were lined with human men in their ridiculous coverings of iron and leather. Each held a small, round shield in one hand, a long-hafted spear in the other, and wore a sword belted to his hip.

Recalling Graayyya’s words from only a moment ago, he stopped himself from sneering. Doubtless, another human leader would be impressed by this show of force. He estimated there were at least five-thousand men arrayed around the walls of the chamber.

But to a dragon— or to him, at least —the presentment of all these armed humans stank of desperation. What was Gurgastius trying to say with this?

Is he expecting to intimidate us, impress us, or make us feel secure under his protection? Sura almost laughed at the thought. It was the sort of nonsense a metallic might suggest.

As they made their way down the long corridor of the chamber, Sura ignored the aesthetics of the chamber. The paintings, engravings, tapestries, and banners adorning the walls did not interest him, nor did the displays of crossed swords and spears or the stands of armor spaced about the chamber.

At the opposite end of the marble-floored chamber sat King Gurgastius in his tall, gilded throne.

Sura couldn’t help thinking the chair looked ridiculous. Why did humans insist that a special chair made them important?

Well, he thought. It is a beautiful chair. But it is, in fact, only a chair.

The bulk of the throne appeared to be silver, with inlays of gold and platinum showing scenes of the Celtic migration from Iberia. It was adorned with an array of gemstones from diamonds, to emeralds, rubies, sapphires, and close on a hundred other types, ranging from fine, beautifully cut stones to raw chunks, from massive stones to flake-like slivers.

The king sat with his chin in one palm, elbow resting on the silver arm of his throne. His expression seemed to vacillate between dour and bored.

Sura would have liked nothing more than to leap across the distance between them in an instant and put an end to this farce, but Graayyya hung much on ceremony and had been clear that she would not tolerate any behavior from him which might be viewed as disrespectful.

Were it almost any other wyrm, he wouldn’t have given a wyvern’s teat what she thought of his actions, but he was not yet prepared to risk displeasing the garnet.

For now, he thought, consoling himself. He had plans. Big plans. But he needed more support to see them through. Announcing his intent, or even beginning his coup, would be useless without the support to make sure it succeeded. Exile would be the best possible result he could look forward to if that happened.

The worst result didn’t bear thinking about.

No, he had to wait. Until he quietly acquired the necessary support, he would continue under the yoke of the cowardly metallics. As much as he might respect Baalhalllu for his wisdom, insight, and power, Sura chafed under the platinum wyrm’s insistence on pandering to the foolish, arrogant human leaders.

These people should be our slaves!

With a shake of his dark head, he pushed the thought away. This was not the time to get worked up over it. Cool and calm. That was what he needed right now. Patience. His time would come.

Sura followed after Graayyya in her slow, stately walk through the immense chamber. He did his best to emulate her regal bearing and polite mien.

Though the distance was little more than ten times his own length, traversing its length seemed to take an age.

At last, Graayyya came to a stop with about a wingspan between her and the steps leading up to the throne. Suppressing a sigh of mingled relief and annoyance, Sura stepped around the garnet to stand at her side.

With effort, he kept the sneer from his lips and maintained a carefully neutral expression. He stopped half a step behind the garnet. If he did not maintain the show of deference to her, it was likely to offend both her and the human king.

Following her example, he bowed his head to the human king as a sign of respect, though he never took his eyes from the human. Graayyya could trust the Humans all she wanted, but he would not. This whole situation still brought with it the stench of an ambush.

The human’s lips curled back in a sneer and Sura only just stopped the growl fighting to form in his chest. This was not an acceptable way for a human to acknowledge the presence of two dragon masters!

“Greetings, my friends,” the human said in his primitive, guttural tongue. Sura couldn’t be certain, but he thought he heard a slight, sardonic emphasis on the last word.

Graayyya inclined her head a few claw-widths lower than before. “I trust the day finds you well, King Gurgastius.”

King Gurgastius, Sura thought. Not your majesty, not your eminence, not my king, but simply, king. I wonder if he’ll notice the slight in those words.

The king’s mouth curled up an in unpleasant smile. “And you, great wyrms. Your journey was…” his eyes narrowed. “Uneventful?”

What was he playing at?

The stench of ambush seemed to grow within the vast chamber.

Graayyya flashed a charming smile. “The way was pleasantly quiet, King. In these peaceful times, I would expect nothing less. Don’t you agree?”

The king’s eyes seemed to focus and harden. Sura wouldn’t have said the king’s eyes had been soft or unfocused before, yet those qualities grew by orders of magnitude. “Peace,” he spat in apparent disgust. “Is that what you see in my land, dragon? Peace?”

Graayyyavalllia seemed taken aback. Her jaw hung open.

The king went on coldly. “I do not see a land of peace. I look at my realm and I see strife. I see famine. I see war knocking at the doors of my borders.”

Even Sura’s jaw fell open now. War? From where? What people did he think were coming?

“And here sit my dragons, complacent and lazy, heedless of the disasters approaching my realm. As though it matters not at all!”

My dragons? Sura thought. Since when does he own us?

Graayyya’s jaw clamped closed and she narrowed her eyes. The movement was slight. Sura didn’t think the king would even notice, but he could well guess its meaning.

“And what,” she said stiffly. “Pray tell, would you have us do, King?”

The human’s eyes narrowed and he hissed venomously, “Do as your king has commanded! Bring peace and plenty to my realm! Destroy mine enemies! Put the fear of the gods into any who would oppose me or try to take what is rightfully mine!”

Sura opened his mind, connecting to Graayyya directly.

Has he lost his mind? Has he forgotten that we could destroy him and his realm in the blink of an eye? How does he think this will end?

Graayyya gave a small, sad smile. I have to believe he has been corrupted somehow. Something has twisted his mind around on itself.

Sura scoffed. You give him too much credit.

No, my friend. I knew him before. He was always rational, humble, and respectful. Not like this man at all.

The garnet’s smile faltered after their near-instant conversation. From the slight tremor around her eyes, Sura guessed she was struggling not to glare at the small human. “My friend, you–“

“Friend?” the King sneered. “Friends do as they’re bid–“

“My friend,” she repeated emphatically. “You have forgotten yourself. We dragons are not here to fight your battles for you. We are not here to bring in harvest for your people. We are certainly not here to hunt down your enemies for you, especially when said enemies are not even campaigning toward you yet!”

Gurgastius’s lips twisted into a snarl.

“We are here,” she continued, as though she didn’t see the expression, “to advise you. To help you. And to enable peaceful relations with the peoples with whom such would otherwise be impossible.”

The King glared.

“And so, my king, is there anything we may help you with? Do you have any honorable, just request we might consider?”

The King blinked, his expression blank. Then he stood in the stiff, barely mobile fashion that humans seemed to believe somehow denoted regalness. He spoke with deadly calm. “Get out of my home. Remove yourselves from my realm. I will not tolerate dissent. I will not accept disobedience. If you will not do as commanded, then you have no place in my realm. Remove yourselves this instant!”

He wants to die, Sura growled silently to Graayyya.

She gave a slight shake of her head. I don’t know what it is, but something must have happened to him. Something terrible. Perhaps he is mad.

Graayyya turned to face Sura, a crimson tear glimmering in her golden eye. “Vordillainsura, my friend, I believe it is time we left the king’s presence. This line of conversation is getting us nowhere.”

Confused, Sura gave a small nod and turned to lead the way out of the chamber. What was she doing?

“Do as I command! Remove yourselves from my realm. You are no longer welcome here. I will find dragons who will do as they are bid! Do not come back to my realm!” The king’s voice trembled with rage by the time he finished.

Sura seethed. He wanted to turn around and spew his acidic breath on this foolhardy human. How dare he! To think that this pathetic human had the temerity to order him! To command great wyrms to do his bidding!

Were it not for Graayyya, he would have done exactly as he wished. Were it not for her, the ostensible mistress of all Prydein, having ordered him not to, he would have destroyed every last human in the chamber and melted the castle down to slag for good measure.

As it was, however, he held his head high and put all the swagger he could muster into his steps.

Let my every movement be an insult to this foolhardy human! he thought.

A part of him— surely, it must have been a very small part —hoped the mad king would order the soldiers arrayed around the chamber to attack them. It would be just the excuse he needed to tear this ridiculous keep down around the Humans’ feet. Let them witness firsthand the power of an angry wyrm!

With a frustrated sigh, he pushed the thought away and followed Graayyyavalllia out the massive oak doors into the midday glare of Ryujin’s Blaze.

“Mistr–“

“Not now, Sura,” she snapped.

He took a deep breath as he struggled not to lash out at the garnet.

“I need to speak with Dauria. And Baalhalllu. And the rest of the council,” she muttered, clearly not speaking to him.

What do you need those moldering sacks of bones for? Sura thought bitterly. You should just listen to me and turn around and strike the fear of gods into these idiotic humans. The only lessons they will ever respond to are power, violence, and destruction.

He kept silent, however. Angering her would avail him not a thing.

She paced back and forth, apparently oblivious to his presence, her visage growing more and more worried with each cycle.

Sura did his best to maintain the appearance of calm.

At length, she stopped her pacing and raised her eyes, meeting his gaze for the first time in over an hour. Her eyes widened, as though she had forgotten he was there. “Vordillainsura. My apologies. I did not mean to keep you here waiting on me. I trust you are ready to leave this place?”

“Beyond any doubt,” he said, struggling to maintain his calm. To suggest she had been trying his patience would have been tantamount to calling the Antarctic region a bit chilly.

With a nod, she turned away toward the west, where he knew she made her lair. Turning back to watch him from over her shoulder, she said briskly, “I know direct confrontation is your usual way, but please, believe me when I say that will not serve you well this time. We need to come together and find a solution which does not involve mass genocide and destruction. Can we agree on that much, at least?”

Sura contemplated for a moment. As much as he despised humans, he had to admit that he didn’t want to destroy them all. Enslave them, certainly, but not destroy. Not all of them, at least. They had uses, after all. Limited uses, but uses all the same.

After a long moment, he nodded. They could gather their imbecilic council and talk the matter over if they wanted. In the end it would avail them little, if anything at all.

Graayyya turned from him once more, seemingly satisfied, and leaped into the air. She snapped her wings out to catch the thermal updrafts, which sent her soaring skyward.

Sura watched her fly away toward the west until she was little more than a speck on the horizon.

He shook his head. After the things he had seen from Gurgastius this day, he saw no chance of the mad king being reasoned with at any point in the future, near or far.

But go ahead and try anyway. I have my own–

Vordillainsura found himself retrieving his lower jaw from its new position near the ground. The idea which had just slammed its way into his mind was brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.

He turned toward his realm in the east, but Graayyya’s voice in his mind halted him. See to your people, my friend. They will need you in the coming days.

With a grunted reply, he leaped into the air and began his trek home. Gathering strength from his Apex, he sent a silent message to every agate and malachite wyrm he knew of throughout his realm in the east.

For his plan to work, he would need as much support as he could find.

Hopefully, what he could find would be enough.

CHAPTER TWO

VORDILLAINSURA SAT IN his watery lair in the swamplands of western Gaul contemplating his situation.

Yesterday, the call had come. A call to meet, in force, at the Prydein monument known as Stonehenge. He was left with no option but to comply, as any who did not attend the council would be branded as renegades and hunted down. And while that thought didn’t bother him as much as it might once have, he was not prepared to abandon the council just yet.

In time, perhaps, he thought. But not yet.

Shaking his head in frustration, Sura considered his position.

His plans had not yet come to complete fruition. He did not have quite the support he needed. He had a number of wyrms backing him, and that number grew every day, but it just wasn’t enough yet.

With a final glance around his home, Sura turned from the slimy, black walls and hanging vines toward the entrance, half a league up the steady incline at the north end of the artificial cave.

A strange sense of melancholy gripped him as he moved up the incline. The salty, brackish scent of his cave vanished as a gust of icy wind blew through the tunnel from the entrance above, further reminding him he was abandoning this place and might never return.

Depending, of course, on what happens tomorrow. On if I’m right about the solution they have arrived at.

Stepping from the open hole in the marshy ground, Sura touched his Apex and pulled forth several streams of arcane power. With them, he pulled vines from the trees around him and laid them in a crisscrossing latticework over the entrance to his lair. They would be strong enough and solid enough to keep almost any creature standing upon them from falling through to his lair below.

That done, he used the second stream to shield his lair from arcane observation and locating.

With a heavy sigh, he turned and leaped into the air. Immediately, he shrieked several times in rapid succession, using power from his Apex to augment the power of his voice.

Within minutes, a trail of wyrms followed in his wake. There weren’t many dragons sharing the north-western swamps with him, as each dragon required a sizable food source, but of those who did, all had joined his cause. As he’d known they would. Most stone dragons weren’t any fonder of humans than he was.

Few stone dragons— with the obvious exception of Graayyyavalllia, who had been brought up by the foolish platinum female, Kwallindauria, which practically made the garnet a metallic herself —would tolerate being placed under the yoke of human rule.

While the metallics, of course, would do anything in the name of peace. Therefore, few of them would ally themselves with him. The gemstone dragons, however, were another matter altogether.

Not all of them would see things his way, that was so. Gemstones were a whimsy bunch, but many would see it his way and join in his crusade. He prayed it would be enough.

So far he hadn’t found many, as the gems mostly kept themselves aloof from the doings of both men and other dragons. But he’d convinced a diamond, an emerald, and two sapphires to join him so far. With luck, there would be many more at the council who would be amenable to his way of thinking. They needed to act, and soon.

Sura was pulled from his thoughts by a bright, silvery flash ahead. The hot summer air in his eyes made it difficult to see, but the growls from the other stone dragons behind him informed him that his initial supposition was not incorrect.

The silvery shape ahead could have been a silver wyrm, though what a silver would be doing here was beyond him. Though less likely, it could also have been an exceptionally large steel dragon. They were known to not always follow the dogmatic approach of the other metallics.

Flying on, however, he realized the creature ahead of him was neither silver nor steel. Nor was it a rare pyrite, cobalt, or hematite wyrm.

No, ahead of him, hovering almost motionless, was one of the exceptionally rare, blue-silver platinum wyrms. The realization amazed him. What was a platinum doing here?

The platinums had always been few in number, but conflicts in recent millennia had thinned those numbers even further.

These days, he felt certain, there couldn’t have been more than perhaps three or four families of platinums left. The choices of whose wyrmling this was would be quite limited indeed.

What was he going to do?

The platinum wyrmling was sleek, his scales shining with the brilliance of Ryujin’s Blaze overhead. He appeared sculpted from a single chunk of finely wrought, lustrous platinum.

Although quite young, certainly at least a few centuries younger than Sura himself, this wyrm was large. It was difficult to be certain at this distance, but Sura thought it likely the wyrm was larger even than himself.

His lip curled up in an expression somewhere between a snarl and a sneer. What did this plat want?

Peace, my friend. Peace. I do not seek conflict, the deep, resonant voice sounded inside his head.

Sura fought back the growl trying to sound in his chest. The other stones behind him were doing enough of that, there was no sense in adding to the chorus.

What do you want?

A mental smile passed through the telepathic link. Please, let us speak in person. You will be here in a few short minutes anyway.

Sura nodded. That would be better anyway. He didn’t like having a metallic in his head, as it was too easy to convey more than intended when speaking mind-to-mind. Not to mention the details which could be missed if they were stated with too much subtlety.

Impatient now, he flew on. As much as he despised metallics, especially the platinums, who had no taste for battle whatsoever, he couldn’t deny that he was intrigued by this wyrm.

What was this all about? The fact that this wyrm was here alone spoke volumes. Obviously he wasn’t’ here to oppose Sura and the others. He would have brought a hundred others with him if that were the case.

And it had to be related to the council. Else, why come now, when all wyrms the world over had been summoned to take part in the Grand Council of Wyrms.

He couldn’t possibly be here to help, or, Tiamat forbid, to join them, could he? Was that something a metallic would even consider? If so, what would lead him to such a choice?

Sura had extreme difficulty imagining any situation in which a metallic would willingly go against his fellows in preference for joining with a force of stone wyrms intent on subverting the council.

Is it possible the metallics are more complex than I’ve ever given them credit for? He wondered.

He shook his head, pushing the thought away. He would find out soon enough.

“Sura,” a low voice growled from behind him. “What is–“

“We shall see,” Sura said. “I’m not certain what he’s about just yet.”

“You do realize who that is, don’t you?”

In fact, he didn’t. Should he have recognized the platinum?

“Of course,” he said, unwilling to admit to ignorance.

“What is the great brat doing here?”

“I told you we shall see!” Sura snapped.

The other lapsed into silence, but Sura was mystified. Great Brat? What did that mean? Who was this wyrm?

The low swamplands of north-western Gaul rose into a grassy plain, flat and green for leagues around with nothing but the occasional tree or stream for decoration.

Sura hovered about a dozen wingspans from the sleek platinum when it finally hit him who the wyrm was. His jaw fell open and he almost forgot to flap his wings. What was the Great Brat doing here? Was he so stupid as to not comprehend he would not be welcome here?

Sura slowed and angled himself upright to face the Platinum Brat on an equal plane. “What is it you want, Bratling?”

“Oh, come now,” the platinum said, his voice dripping with scorn. “Is that any way to speak to one who comes to you with open paw and glad tidings?”

“Open paw?” Sura asked suspiciously.

“Of course. Lest you would never listen to my tidings.”

Sura grunted. The Bratling had a point. With a sigh, he spoke the ritual words. “I see your paw is open. Show me what you bring within it, that I may accept your gift with a full heart.” Silently, he added, blasted rules of hospitality.

The platinum smiled in what seemed genuine pleasure. “Thank you, my lord.”

My lord, Sura thought. I like the sound of that.

“Now if you please, my lord, I would prefer to land before showing you the contents of my open paw.”

With a growl of annoyance, Sura nodded his assent. This better be worth it.

The platinum circled around in a wide pattern and glided to the Earth. Sura followed suit, but signaled his followers to remain airborne with a gesture of his tail.

Coming to a hard landing before the platinum, he waited impatiently.

The lustrous dragon stood up on his hind legs and reached down to the scales at his belly. Lifting a wide patch of them with one paw, he gritted his teeth and slashed at the soft flesh underneath with a single claw from the other.

Groaning in pain as silvery-blue blood pumped from the wound, the platinum thrust a paw into the wound.

Sura’s eyes went wide. What in the name of the Queen of Chaos was this insane plat doing?

The platinum claw seemed to be fishing around beneath his hide. Sura grimaced. He couldn’t stop himself imagining the pain of such an undertaking.

Though his eyes were riveted on the claw, still fishing about inside the platinum’s body, Sura imagined the pain which must be evident on the wyrm’s face just now.

The platinum stopped and seemed to clasp something within his body. Sura couldn’t help wondering, through his horrified fascination, what it could possibly be. Did the wyrm have something secreted there? Or was he offering up a bit of himself?

The platinum pulled the paw from his body, a black shaft clutched between his claws. Sura couldn’t tell what the substance was, but he felt certain it was not a part of the platinum’s body.

Incredibly, the shaft kept coming from within the platinum body, dripping silvery blood all the while. The wyrm fully extended his foreleg then gripped the shaft at the wound in his flesh and kept pulling. How did embedding it in his body not kill him? And what was this thing?

Another dozen claw-widths of shaft emerged, then it stopped. The platinum pulled again, but it wouldn’t move any farther.

“Please.” The wyrm’s voice was fearful and pleading. “I need you to help me pull the last of it out. I didn’t cut the opening wide enough, it would seem.”

“You’re insane,” Sura breathed.

The young platinum shook his head. “You will understand. Very soon, you will know.”

Sura scowled, but gripped the shaft in both forepaws and yanked. The platinum shrieked in agony, but the shaft did not move.

After a moment, the platinum’s shriek died. He took several ragged breaths. “Again,” he rasped. “Harder. Don’t stop until it comes free.”

With a shrug, Sura wiped the platinum’s blood from the strange black shaft and renewed his grip, grasping it closer to the wyrm’s body this time. He set his hind legs for better leverage and pulled.

This time, rather than a single, hard yank he started softly, and leaned back a bit as he increased the force of his pulling, determined not to let go and not to stop until the shaft came free of the foolish platinum’s body.

Harder and harder he pulled, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His muscles trembled. Still, he pulled harder, investing all his great strength into it.

At last, with a sickening ripping sound which reminded him of hatching eggs, the shaft came free with a huge spurt of silvery blood and he was thrown backward from the wyrm. He rolled head over tail several times before the momentum died and he came to a stop against a rocky rise.

Shaking his head to clear it, Sura stood, still clutching the shaft in both paws.

Looking up and down the length of the peculiar thing, Sura’s breath caught in his throat and power surged through his Apex. Could it truly be…?

The shaft itself, now devoid of the platinum’s silvery blood, seemed to be carved from an opaque black gemstone. Perhaps onyx or black opal. He could detect no seams in the material, lending credence to his theory that it was carved from a single piece.

And what a piece of stone that must have been!

The finished shaft was well over a standard wingspan in length. Just how the platinum had gotten it into his body in the first place, and without killing himself on top of it, was beyond Sura’s ken to determine.

At the top of the shaft sat a huge chunk of fire opal carved in the rough shape of a dragon.

A memory ticked at the back of Sura’s mind. He had heard of an item matching this description once, he was sure of it. If only he could–

Yanking a stream of power from his Apex, Sura sent it surging into his mind to enhance his memory.

He staggered with the strength of his effort. He hadn’t held back, he’d meant to use a lot of power, but this was so much more than he would have thought possible.

He found he now held every memory in his mind as though he were living each and every one right now. He remembered hatching from his egg in the swamp lands of the far south-east. He remembered his time in the egg, humming to his dam’s wonderful singing as she placed his egg in its incubating swamp mud. He even recalled the very moment he first came into existence as a single cell when the tiny egg was fertilized within his dam’s womb.

He had a vague sense of both Sire and Dam before then, of who they’d been and the passion which had led to his conception, but it was only vague sensations with no context.

This. Is. Not. Normal! He thought.

After a moment of confused overload, however, the memories calmed somewhat and he sifted through the legends he’d heard as a wyrmling and found the one he was looking for.

The Dragon Scepter!

According to the descriptions he had heard as a wyrmling, even down to the phenomenal enhancement of Apex and active arcane power, it seemed that was what he held in his paws. The Fabled Dragon Scepter. Most thought it nothing more than a myth. He surely had, up until this very moment.

Only with tremendous effort did Sura finally order his thoughts enough to address the platinum with a coherent question. “Where did you get this?”

The platinum grinned, though the slight tremble in his mandibular muscles told Sura he was still in great pain. “Begging my lord’s pardon, but that secret will remain my own. Suffice it to say I did not steal it, so no one will come looking for it.”

Sura shrugged. That was enough. As much as his curiosity wanted an actual answer, he could make do without. It would have been nice to search the location for other fabled artifacts, though.

“Alright, whelp,” Sura said briskly. “You have my attention. What are these tidings you bring?”

The platinum’s expression narrowed to sly amusement. “I know what Baalhalllu’s plans are for the Grand Council. I know what he intends to force everyone to agree to.”

CHAPTER THREE

VORDILLAINSURA LED HIS procession of dragons across the skies over the flat, empty plains of central Prydein at a measured pace. He did not hurry, but neither did he take his time.

Balhamuut, the young platinum, had given him much to think about yesterday. So much, in fact, that he had struggled to rise and get the others moving again this morning. They were going to be late to the council.

As he had when he’d risen, Sura shrugged. It wasn’t as though Baalhalllu would do anything to him for being late. Surely, he would not be the only one. With so many wyrms coming from so many points across the Earth, it was inevitable that not all would make the midday appointment for the start of this Grand Council.

Wasn’t it?

And he had much to ponder anyway.

Assuming Balhamuut was telling the truth— and why would he lie? He would be discovered in short order, so what would be the point? —Baalhalllu had an unprecedented plan and intended to force it on all of them. A plan Sura most definitely did not agree with.

How would Baalhalllu force them, though? The younger platinum hadn’t been able to give him an answer to that.

Might it be possible to sway the council against him? Sura wondered. Overthrow him and install myself in his place?

Sura made plans and contingencies all throughout his flight. He wasn’t at all certain he could, in fact, sway the council against the dithering coward, but he was determined to use every trick he could come up with to make it happen.

He would only have one shot at this. If he didn’t garner enough support, it would all be for naught.

In the end, owing in large part to his refusal to allow his followers to perceive him as hurrying to do the bidding of a metallic, no matter his station, Sura almost missed the council. It was nearly a fourth of a day past midday when he reached the appointed spot in the southern plains of Prydein.

In the fading light of Ryujin’s Blaze as it neared the horizon, the veritable rainbow of dragons glittered and shone, sending an array of colors shooting in all directions from the massive gathering of wyrms.

Sura couldn’t recall ever having seen such an array of dragons in one place before.

Ever.

He came in to land at the edge of the circular gathering amid mutterings from the crowd and dark looks from the thirteen who stood in a circle at its center. The Council themselves.

Graayyya glared at him from that inner circle.

Sura shrugged and allowed himself to be surrounded by his followers. Scanning the crowd, he found Balhamuut— surrounded by a sea of metallics, of course —and a pawful of others he knew would support him.

In the center of the gathering, Graayyyavalllia cleared her throat and spoke in an annoyed tone, as though she had been interrupted. Doubtless she had been. By his arrival. “It was then, good wyrms, after I had clarified our position for him, that King Gurgastius moved to order us to depart his realm and not return. For failing to do his bidding, as though we were his servants.”

Angry mutterings cut her off.

The council waited, no doubt hoping the assemblage would quiet itself.

After several minutes, during which the angry mutterings continued to grow in intensity, Baalhalllu flared his wings out to his sides with a snap and the voices ceased immediately.

“After much consideration,” Graayyya said, raising her voice. “I have come to the conclusion that contrary to behavioral evidence, Gurgastius is not mad. I believe it is pride and arrogance that rule his actions now, perhaps spurred on by foolish advisors.”

“What can we do?” cried a voice near Sura.

“Why don’t we leave him to his death, then?” rumbled a low voice from across the gathering.

A few of the council members shook their heads.

Klarrundiaul, a large azurite from the highlands in the north of Prydein, stomped a paw into the dry soil. “This kind of arrogance is epidemic. If we acquiesce and leave his realm, the commands will continue. They will also grow larger.”

Jorrduliannsa, a pale celestine from the far north who was known for rarely speaking his mind, spoke up then. “Not to mention that we’d be forcing the wise Graayyyavalllia from her ancestral home.”

“You say this like it’s a bad thing,” Sura said under his breath.

From within the sea of metallics, Balhamuut’s voice rang out, cold and clear. “Let us simply kill Gurgastius and be done with the human threat.”

Sura’s blood surged. That was the signal. His moment was coming. He had to pre-empt Baalhalllu’s inane plan.

The platinum leader rose up, his shining, silver-blue head towering over the other council members. He breathed a gusty sigh. “Gurgastius is but one human leader among many, my friends.”

“’Tis true,” Graayyyavalllia said without missing a beat, as though it were part of the same thought. Which, of course, it was. “I have heard tales from the mainland of the chieftains in Gaul and Rome, the kings in Greece and Persia, and the lords, earls, masters, chiefs, kings, and emperors of the hundred nations between. Like Gurgastius, they all now think to command us, to rule us. To force us, often by threat of violence, to do as they wish.”

Her speech was punctuated by the crack of shattering stones, which Sura guessed meant she had thumped her tail to the ground like an impudent wyrmling.

Jorrduliannsa spoke up again. “Dragon slayers are also becoming a larger and larger problem with each passing season.”

“Only for you,” Sura said softly. “If you’d learn to control your Vikings, you wouldn’t have that problem.”

By the Chaotic Queen, were celestines truly part of the stone breeds? In Sura’s experience, they acted more like the cowardly metallics.

Kwallindauria, Baalhalllu’s other wyrmling, looked around the huge gathering from her place just outside the circle of elders. When she had circled around to meet the gazes of nearly the entire gathering— no mean feat, that —she spoke, slow and deliberate. “The problems are mounting, no question. What we need, however, is not a recounting of the problems we face, but solutions.”

Sura’s belly roiled. He wanted to vomit. That young dragon’s sense of honor was sickening. It was said, often and never in her hearing, that her sense of morality was such an intrinsic part of her that her scruples had scruples. Or that her scales must have honor of their own.

Sura scoffed at such nonsense, of course. He cared only that this foolish dragon go back to her own island in the east. Let her dwell with her adoring humans and leave the real world to real dragons.

“Here, here!” rang out the voices of dozens of metallic dragons.

This, too, was rehearsed. He’d known to expect it.

As if pre-planned accolades would sway anyone, he thought in disgust. What is it that they think they are going to accomplish?

As though a gong went off in his head, Sura realized this was his cue. He needed to speak now. Convince them of the right of his plans.

“It is time to strike,” he called out in loud, ringing tones. He shifted his head slightly to catch the light of Ryujin’s Blaze, hoping the glare would draw the attention of any wyrms who might be engaged in other discussions and not paying attention. “Not the foolish one-dragon-against-an-army battles that have been taking place in haphazard fashion throughout the world, but a concerted attack against the Humans.”

He paused for a moment, to let the thought sink in. “We are not the only ones being threatened! The sidhe, the gnimshei, the famorians, the firbolg, the tuatha, and scores of others are being threatened by the Humans as well. They will all join with us in a war against mankind. It is time. Who is with me?”

It was not strictly accurate, of course. He had no assurance whatsoever that any of the aforementioned species would agree to take part in a war against humans. It sounded good though. And he felt certain that if he had enough support, they would all join his cause.

Some of the stone dragons cheered, mostly those in his immediate vicinity. But not many outside his circle joined in the accolade, and scant few metallics or gemstones took part at all.

Sura’s heart sank. What happened? What went wrong? Balhamuut had assured him that if he gave the speech, hundreds of wyrms would support him.

Did the platinum trick him?

Graayyya turned to face him, pain in her eyes. “Are you insane?”

Sura’s blood boiled and a haze of red dimmed his vision. He heard himself say something, short and clipped, but he had no idea what it was.

More words passed and these, too, were well beyond his comprehension. A small voice in the back of his mind whispered that he needed to calm himself and speak intelligently.

He struggled to do exactly that.

When his hearing and vision cleared, Dauria was speaking to him. “Do not let your violent nature get the better of you, Sura.”

How dare you call me familiar! He thought, but managed to tamp down his rage and think clearly.

With a scoff, as though he’d heard all that had been said and dismissed it, he turned away from the platinum to face the stone masses around him. “RALLY BEHIND ME, WYRMS!” he roared at the top of his voice. “BATTLE COMES, AND WE WILL NOT RUN FROM IT! WE MUST FIGHT AND WE MUST DESTROY THE HUMANS ONCE AND FOR ALL!”

A bit more cheering support seemed to come, but it was cut off by Jorrduliannsa’s smooth voice. “Do not be an idiot. You know the destruction we have wrought in the past when we have warred openly. If we do this, if we go to war, one and all, there will be no Earth left by the time we are done. Nothing will survive.”

“If that is what is needed,” Sura snarled. Why could the fools not see that no matter what destruction they wrought in the process, the destruction, or at least subjugation, of humanity needed to happen?

Graayyya glared at him. “Can you hear yourself?”

Sura almost laughed. “All I hear is the bleating of a coward.”

The garnet shook her head sadly. “How many times have you come to me to arbitrate, Vordillainsura?” she asked. Turning, she stared at the malachite to his left. “Korathroonllea?” She pivoted and faced the azurite at his other side. “Dreerovadia.” The garnet twisted and looked to a copper standing near Balhamuut. “Thrunndiaun?” Arching her neck, she looked to the emerald immediately behind Sura. “Briteillaun.” Then she turned to a celestine who stood next to Jorrduliannsa. “Viritriain?” Finally, she moved her gaze far to one side, where she settled on a charoite wyrm lounging to the west of the gathering. “And Cukhorilain. How often have you all come to me for my wisdom, to settle disputes, or to facilitate talks with the other races? How often have each and every one of you come to me and listened to my counsel?”

Dammit, Sura thought, lowering his head a bit. She makes far too good a point. What more can I do here?

With a sneer, he raised his head to meet her eyes with a glare. “What do you suggest, then?”

“Can I at least convince you that war is not the answer?” she asked sweetly.

And, she has me, he thought. She’s snared me in quite the trap. If I don’t agree, she’ll have me removed, and if I do, then this whole battle will have been pointless.

If only I’d been able to recruit her to my cause!

He spoke quietly, carefully enunciating each word. “If you can show me a better solution.”

The garnet gave a curt nod and a small, knowing smile. As though his answer settled everything. As much as it annoyed him, he supposed it probably did. From her perspective, at least.

Baalhalllu looked rather pleased with himself, to which Sura snorted in disdain. The platinum’s daughter looked around the mass of standing stones, once again catching the eyes of most the wyrms who had gathered for this council.

She certainly is taking her time, he thought in annoyance. He hadn’t achieved nearly the support today he’d been hoping for, but all was not lost.

It was true that the plan Balhamuut had brought to him was now void and useless. The young platinum had not brought him nearly the support the plan called for. But maybe, just maybe, he could still turn this apparent failure into victory.

Was the council’s plan truly as Balhamuut had outlined?

Finally, Dauria spoke, her voice stern and pointed. “If you will all listen, the Council of Elders has a plan which will ensure both our own continued survival as well as that of the Humans and Mother Nature herself.”

Baalhalllu’s gaze swept the assemblage, though he spent much less time at it than had his daughter. He gave a curt, satisfied nod and began speaking.

The plan he laid out was so ludicrous, so inane, so close to what Balhamuut had said, Sura wondered that the assembled wyrms didn’t laugh.

CHAPTER FOUR

IN THE BRIGHT, windless skies over the small channel separating Prydein from the main continent, the only breath of air to touch the agate wyrm came from his own passage through the sky and the flapping of his wings. Which he did with furious abandon.

What were those idiots thinking?

A dastardly possibility occurred to him.

Could it be? he wondered. Might Baalhalllu have insured the majority of them would agree? But how would he do it? Surely, the platinum would not use a threat of violent force. Such has never been his way.

Sura pushed the thought away. It didn’t matter. Regardless of how the platinum had managed it, he had gained almost unanimous support for his plan.

Left with everyone voting against him, Sura had been forced to go along with the idiocy.

Let the imbeciles go to sleep, then, he thought. Undoubtedly, at least some of them will be found and destroyed by Jorrduliannsa’s dragon slayers. But no matter. They can sleep all they want. It will not affect my plans in the slightest.

He did not truly wish harm on his fellows. Obviously, they had been compelled in some way to go along with the plan. And the more Sura thought through his plans, the more he was convinced this whole situation could work to his benefit in the end.

In the end. That is the key. Think long term. It will likely take centuries to bring to fruition, but when it’s ready, there will be none who can stop me!

With that thought, his blood finally cooled and he relaxed the pumping of his wings a bit. Slowing his pace to something more natural, he considered his plans again, searching for flaws and weaknesses.

When it came right down to it, the biggest difficulty he needed to overcome was ensuring one of his minions would be inducted into the new order of The Watchers when the Long Sleep was enacted.

There was no possible way the council would allow him to be among them, that was obvious. He had been much too vocal about his wishes to go to war. He would have to work through agents unknown to the council to make his will done.

Balhamuut, he thought. He won’t be selected as one of the Watchers either, but he could help to ensure someone loyal to me does become one.

Yes, the idea had merit. Plus, it gave him the opportunity to test the young platinum’s loyalty. Something which was very much in question now.

But who could he select as one of the Watchers? This was the immediate question he needed to answer. Who could he trust with it?

He went down his mental list of potential candidates. No one who openly supported him was an option, as the council would never allow it. Which left him with…

Not much.

With an abruptness which startled the few denizens of the swamp into scattering, Sura came in to land at the entrance to his lair. Rolling onto his back, he squirmed against a rotting root beneath the surface of a black pool to scratch at an itch beneath his scales.

Sated at last, he stood again and an idea came to him. It was so simple, he wondered that he hadn’t thought of it before. How could he have missed it?

The pyrite.

Pyrite dragons occupied such a strange place in draconic society, this one not least of all. There were so few of them that they couldn’t form their own communities and their place so near the line which divided metallics from stone dragons only made their positions that much more precarious.

Sura smiled. He had never thought to have an opportunity to collect on the debt owed him by the pyrite, but this was a prime opportunity for it.

Climbing back to a standing position, he leaped into the air and flew to the south-east post-haste. With how little time he had left, he would need to put this plan into effect quickly.

The winter solstice was the day. The council, along with their hundred most trusted wyrms, would send out their power to compel all dragons to sleep. All his plans had to be settled long before then. The council would finalize everything at least a month beforehand. If he was to get the pyrite into the ranks of the Watchers, it would have to be done before then.

How will they do it? he wondered.

It was only natural, of course, that Baalhalllu and the council did not disclose their exact method in front of all the assembled wyrms. They would want it kept secret so none could find a way to thwart their plans. The last thing they wanted was to have a few rogue dragons running about while the rest slept.

But they didn’t know about the Dragon Scepter. Surely, its powers could keep him from succumbing to the arcane might of the council and those who would help them. If anything could keep him awake, it would be the Dragon Scepter.

But what about the lost ones? He wondered. Kaiyutaulliaund, and the others who have vanished over the centuries. Will it force them to sleep as well?

It was an interesting question, but unfortunately it was one to which he had no ready answer.

Chhry’stuulliound, he sent, trying to reach the wyrm ahead of his arrival in the pyrite’s realm.

There was no response.

CHAPTER FIVE

THE FLIGHT ACROSS the lush, vibrant greenery turned Vordillainsura’s stomach.

He snorted in an attempt to eject the stench from his nostrils. How could the pyrite stand all this greenery? The scent of vibrant life, utterly lacking in decay and putrescence was sickening. Vegetation should be black, rotting, and waterlogged.

Shaking his head in bemused wonder, Sura raced past the stinking, steaming vegetation to the mountain range near the southern sea where the pyrite made his lair.

At least the stone of the mountains was properly dark, warm, and moist, even if it did emit the stinking scent of green and of life.

He dropped to the stone floor just outside the entrance to the cave. With a trumpeting call to announce his presence, he stepped inside the cave.

The interior was dark and gloomy, but a few degrees cooler than the hot summer air outside.

“What are you doing here, agate?” hissed a soft, menacing voice.

“Careful who you speak to in that tone,” Sura breathed, his voice laced with dangerous calm.

A sharp intake of breath sounded from the other end of the chamber.

Sura nodded. “That’s right. You know me now, don’t you?”

A soft, scraping sound reached his auditory receptors, as though a small dragon were scrambling up from the floor. “My apologies, friend Sura.” The voice was all respect now. “But my question stands. What are you doing here?”

Sura snarled. “You’d know that if you hadn’t closed your mind to contact.”

Another soft scrape suggested a shrug.

“Release the darkness,” Sura hissed. Instantly, the shadowed sunlight poured into the cavern, revealing a deep chamber. At its end stood a tiny pyrite wyrm with scales that shimmered in the sunlight, seeming to constantly shift between gold and silver.

But he was tiny! The pyrite had always been a small dragon for his age, but he had shrunk since the last time they’d met. At a guess, Sura supposed the creature was perhaps a touch over half the length he had been.

How had that happened? Was it an unexpected side effect of the power they had discovered?

“What happened to you?” Sura breathed.

Now that he thought of it, he didn’t remember seeing the pyrite at the council. Was this why? Had he mistaken the creature for a wyrmling? Or simply missed him altogether on account of his inexplicable small size?

The pyrite screwed up his face in obvious distaste. “I should think that’s pretty obvious. Don’t you?”

Sura shrugged. “I suppose we should have expected side effects. And idea how or why?”

The small dragon barked a high, sharp laugh. “Not specifically, no. My best guess is it’s my Apex balancing things.”

“Balancing? So the rest is effective?”

The bitter, distasteful expression vanished from the pyrite’s visage and he smiled, his yellowing teeth making the expression look feral and vicious. “Oh, yes.”

Sura nodded. “So it was worth it.” It wasn’t a question.

“Every bit. And so much more!”

“And yet, you’re hiding here in the dark,” Sura said dryly.

The pyrite’s vicious smile widened. “Playing possum for those who think my size makes me weak.”

Sura laughed, deep and throaty, for a long time. All the while, Chrys held his grin and even chuckled a bit himself.

Once the chuckles subsided a while later, Sura blanked his expression, all serious business once more. “I’m glad you’re pleased. Now it’s time to repay that debt.”

“Debt?”

“Yes, sand for brains. Your debt.”

“And what debt would that be?”

Sura ground his teeth. “The one you owe me for helping you discover that ability!”

“Is that so.”

Sura had to tamp down on his anger. If this miserable creature was trying to renege on their bargain, he would make the sniveling little wyrmling rue the day they ever crossed paths. “Chhry’stuulliound, mark me, I’m not playing games here. You agreed to owe me a favor after I helped you to figure out the secret.”

The pyrite flashed an easy grin. Perhaps a bit too easy. “Of course, my friend. Of course. What can I do?”

In that instant, the combative air vanished as though it had never been and the pyrite seemed almost his old carefree self again.

Sura, now thoroughly suspicious, made a show of lowering his guard and opened his wings wide to accept whatever the younger dragon might send.

The pyrite raised his brow ridges every so slightly.

Sura swallowed a frustrated sigh. “I have a task for you. The council has voted, as I’m sure you’re aware–“

“Naturally.”

“You know the whole plan?”

“Near enough.”

Sura nodded. “Including The Watchers?”

“Especially them.”

“Good,” Sura said. “Then you probably know of at least some of my plans as well.”

The pyrite smiled a bit wider.

Sura sighed. He was growing less and less fond of the creature before him. What happened to the predictable, readable wyrm he had once known? “Long story short, I need you to be one of the Watchers. I’ll explain on the way, though. We have little time. There will be much you must remember.”

CHAPTER SIX

THE TIME PASSED much more quickly than Sura would have liked.

After turning the pyrite over to Balhamuut for training and to familiarize themselves with one another— a necessary occurrence for him to recommend the pyrite as a Watcher —Vordillainsura had been left with little to do apart from waiting and preparing. Almost immediately, he returned to his lair in Gaul and used the power of the Scepter to aid in forming protections around his dwelling.

While he thought it unlikely, he had to protect against the possibility of human, or other, incursion should he end up succumbing to The Sleep along with the others.

To that end, he formed arcane illusions and other defenses to ensure humans would never find or accidentally enter his lair and used similar defenses to ensure no wyrm save Chhry’stuulliound could even find his lair, much less enter.

“By the Lady of Chaos,” he breathed as he realized what he was doing. “I pray trusting the pyrite is not a mistake.”

His exertions complete, he lay down for a nap. The day of The Sleep was fast approaching, and still he had heard no word from Balhamuut as to the acceptance or rejection of the pyrite as a Watcher.

Nervousness ticked at him, preventing him from sleeping. Baalhalllu trusted his son, there could be no doubt of that. The platinum was as ill-suited to deception as any wyrm Sura had ever known. Surely, one of them would have noticed if the older platinum suspected the younger. Or even if he mistrusted him in any way.

Yet Sura couldn’t escape the feeling that something would go horribly wrong and all his plans would be for naught. Surely, something would go wrong.

Stop this! he commanded silently. Your plans are as well-formed as they could possibly be. It will work. You will succeed.

Flapping wings woke him from his slumber. Chill wind blew into his lair from above, bringing with it the briny scent of cold swamp water.

Sura took a deep breath, savoring the delicious flavor of the wind.

The flapping outside ceased and a gentle rumble echoed down. “Sura?” a deep voice called.

With a deep sigh, Sura almost wished the platinum had tried to enter his lair.

Reaching forward with claws outstretched, he arched his back in a stretch. His spine popped in a hundred different places and he breathed a genuine sigh of contentment.

After a moment, he picked himself up from the cave floor and walked up the long corridor out of his lair.

Thrusting his head out of the hidden cave entrance, he imagined himself appearing as just a head which disappeared into the empty space and almost laughed. “What is it?”

The young platinum drew himself up. “All the plans are set. The Long Sleep will commence tomorrow at midday and your friend, the pyrite, will be in the fourth rotation of The Watchers.

“The fourth?” Sura growled, incredulous. “That’s of so little–“

“I don’t want to hear it, Sura. I did all I could. Count yourself lucky he got in at all. My sire didn’t want him. Said he wanted only those he knew were loyal to the council. It took a lot of glib talking on my part to convince him that Chrys would be loyal to him and all would be well.”

Sura smiled. The situation was less than ideal, of course, but he had no true complaints about the outcome. “Fourth, though,” he mused.

The platinum sighed. “It was the best I could do.”

Sura widened his smile. “It will suffice. How long did you say The Watchers’ cycles are? A century?”

“Half.”

“So Chhry’stuulliound will be wakened one-hundred-fifty years from the commencement?”

“Correct.”

Sura nodded, thoughtful. “That should work. It will give me time to arrange things before he wakes.”

The platinum’s eyes widened. “You don’t plan to Sleep?”

Sura scoffed. “Of course not. I’ve been against this plan from the start. Why would I let them force me into succumbing to this idiocy?”

The platinum shrugged. “How do you plan to circumvent it? Surely, they must have plans in place for any who might think to prevent themselves from Sleeping.”

“Of course they do. For all that Baalhalllu does some stupid things, he is not a fool. They will structure the ritual in such a way that it overcomes all foreseeable defenses.”

Balhamuut nodded. “Foreseeable?”

“Of course. There is no chance of them knowing about the Dragon Scepter. Well, certainly not that it has resurfaced and most assuredly not that I have it in my possession. It is my key.”

The platinum nodded thoughtfully. “That makes sense.”

“Where will you go?”

“I have a lair prepared. The pyrite knows where it is, so when you two are ready for me to awaken, he can find me.”

Sura almost laughed. It seemed the distrust between them was mutual and more or less equal. He looked up to the western horizon, where Ryujin’s Blaze hung just above the sea. “You should go. You have scant hours remaining before the commencement.”

Sura finished the last of his enchantments just as light from Ryujin’s Blaze began peeking through the entrance to his cave. The Winter Solstice had come.

Just in time, he thought.

He couldn’t be certain of the time of day the ritual would be performed. The plan had been for midday, but he knew all too well how easily plans changed.

Forcing the frustrations from his mind, he waited.

Impatience will gain you nothing, he reminded himself.

Scant minutes after midday, with Ryujin’s Blaze at its zenith in the sky, the light and heat at their peak on the coldest, darkest, shortest day of the year, a slight tingle tickled at the back of Sura’s mind.

He frowned.

Even through his defenses, he had expected more. Was the council truly so weak? Did they even have the power to do as they had proposed?

He shrugged, pushing the question away. It didn’t matter, after all. Even with how weak the council’s power seemed, how weak the sensation in his mind was, he was better off using the power of the Scepter to defend against it. Just in case.

Taking up the Dragon Scepter, Sura reached into his Apex and drew out a massive river of power. He split it into a plethora of streams, which he used to blanket himself in a shell of anti-magic, to prevent any magical power from touching him.

It took several minutes to form, but once complete there would surely be no way through it. Nothing Sura could fathom had the power to get through such a defense.

Power came, then. It pounded through the defenses he’d built into his lair as though they didn’t exist. The force hammered at the shell around him and he shrieked in agony. Never before had he felt such power. The destructive force behind it was beyond anything he had ever imagined.

The protective barrier crumbled and Sura felt himself tumbling down into the eternal darkness of dreamless sleep.

EPILOGUE

THICK WAVES OF utter darkness sloshed against the wyrm, carrying with them the agonized screams of the dying.

He turned to face the waves that weren’t water and the screams which were not sound, but nothing changed. Another dark, viscous wave slammed into him, though he felt nothing more than an odd tingle in the back of his mind.

Curious, he thought.

The last thing he remembered was waiting in his lair, plans complete, and everything set for the future. And now this… whatever it was. The world of utter darkness which seemingly had no beginning and no end.

A whispered word reached his mind, from where he could not say, but he could not comprehend it.

He turned over, directing his attention back to the past. Surely, there must be something in his memory to explain where he was and what was going on.

The whisper came again, more insistent this time, yet still every bit as incomprehensible. What was making that irritating sound?

Although he had vague memories of what he’d been before this, he couldn’t quite pin a claw on exactly who he was or what his plans had entailed.

He delved further into his mind, digging for the memories, seeking an answer. A tremorous sound rumbled around him, setting the darkness around him to vibrating with power.

Sealed within that powerful sound was a name. His name, it seemed. Yet he didn’t recognize it. Nothing about it felt familiar. Perhaps he was imagining it?

The rumbling sound came again, more insistent than before, then vanished again. What did it want? What was going on? He couldn’t fathom what has happening or what any of it could mean.

Without warning, the dragon found himself rocketing upward out of the rolling darkness. Above, for the first time he could remember, was light. A pair of thin lines emitted only the smallest bit of light, yet it was blinding to his dark-attuned eyes.

Below, as his eyes adjusted, he found the world he had left behind. In truth, it was pure blackness, roiling and swirling with the tide, from horizon to horizon. No structures, no caverns, no other creatures, just pure, viscous blackness in every direction.

He looked upward again just in time to feel his non-form crash into the black surface around the pair of thin cracks of light. He had just enough time to wonder what he would do next when all existence vanished from his perception.

The pyrite dragon pulled open heavy lids, thick with mucus. Glancing about, it took him a moment to realize where he was and what was going on.

That’s right, he thought as memory returned. He hadn’t expected waking from the relatively short slumber to be such an arduous experience.

Pulling a whisper of power from his Apex, he cleared the film from his eyes and looked to the annoyed visage of the golden wyrm standing at the entrance to his lair.

The gold’s eyes narrowed slightly, his frown growing more pronounced. “You sleep much more deeply than the rest of us,” he said.

Chrys shrugged. “That’s odd.”

“Yes. It is.”

The gold did not seem inclined to speak further, however.

Standing, Chrys stretched his limbs and looked around. His lair appeared in good order. “What do I need to know?” he asked through a jaw-popping yawn.

The gold talked him through many of the changes throughout the human world over the last two centuries. The peoples of eastern Asia were solidifying into a unified empire and beginning to experiment with flammable powders as weapons. The islanders to the east of them had mostly unified and formed a new order of warriors they called Samurai, which seemed to revolve, at least in part, around their unique process of metal forging for their blades.

In the west, the descendants of Gurgastius and his ilk were campaigning across the continent, destroying all opposition with their superior weapons. For while the rest of the continent was still using bronze, the Celts had discovered the method of smelting iron into steel, making their weapons far stronger than their counterparts. Largely though, in other parts of the world life continued, nearly unchanged, much as it had for millennia.

Chhry’stuulliound accepted the information with simple nods. There was nothing to be concerned about. Nothing he could imagine the Humans doing would impede Vordillainsura’s plans in any way.

“None of the sleeping dragons have been discovered?”

The gold shook his head. “None.”

“And no wyrms have violated the agreement?” There was no need to be more specific.

“None,” the golden Watcher said confidently. “No dragon has been seen by man since The Sleep was enacted.”

Outwardly, Chrys projected an aura of calm, pleased acceptance. Inwardly, however, he cringed. Sura had planned to be active in the world. He had intended to either wake Chrys himself or have one of his corrupted Watchers do so. What did it mean that such had not happened?

“Who is my fellow Watcher?”

The gold frowned. “Jorrduliannsa, the celestine. He was wakened several moons ago. You will meet him at the Stonehenge monument in three days’ time. There, the two of you can decide on a schedule and separation of duties.”

Chrys nodded.

“Unless there is something you need of me, I will return to my rest. I am weary of the petty conflicts of Humankind.”

Chrys nodded again. “I can’t blame you. Enjoy your rest. I’m sure I’ll see you again in… what? a millennium?”

The gold gave a curt nod, then turned and leaped from the mountain lair’s entrance.

“A wyrm of few words, that one,” Chrys mused.

Moving to the open entrance to his lair, Chhry’stuulliound looked out over the valley below him. He breathed in the lush, humid heat. The green smell was energizing.

His lair seemed a bit higher than it had been when he’d gone to Sleep— certainly no more than a few claw-widths —but otherwise the view was unchanged. He took another deep breath and touched his Apex. It, too, was little changed. A bit brighter, but otherwise much the same.

With only a hint of trepidation, he touched his other source of power.

His breath caught in his throat.

The total strength of arcane power available to him seemed little changed. Perhaps a slight upward tick. But two of the sources had vanished!

Did they die, somehow? he wondered.

For long moments, he kept his eyes on the lush forest outside his lair and pondered this new information.

They must have, he decided finally. Yet while I slept, the others have grown more than enough to make up the difference.

With a slight shiver of anticipation, he shrugged. In the end, it didn’t matter if some died so long as his power remained intact.

Nodding, he directed his attention to the present. The pressing question was, why hadn’t Sura made contact? Had he succumbed to the Sleep with the rest of Dragonkind after all?

He supposed he would have to visit the agate’s lair to be certain. He was loathe to do so, the stench of the swamp never failed to incite his stomach into turning somersaults, but there was nothing for it. Even if he woke another wyrm first— or corrupted Jorrduliannsa first —only he could enter the agate’s lair.

Why had the agate put so much trust in him?

Because the others he associates with would turn on him in an instant, Chrys thought with a soft chuckle.

The platinum could have been an exception to that, of course. He couldn’t be sure. The truth was he didn’t know what to make of the young platinum at all. What was the wyrmling doing siding against his own family?

Chrys understood his own motivations. He didn’t believe in the agate’s crusade, not in the slightest. He didn’t exactly wish to sleep away the ages while humans ruled the Earth, but neither did he have any desire to destroy them.

What he did believe in, however, was paying his debts. Together with the agate, he had discovered an entirely new source of arcane power. One he never would have imagined on his own. And for that, he owed the agate a deep debt.

With a long, shuddering sigh, Chhry’stuulliound leaped from the mouth of his cave and spread his wings, propelling himself westward. If Vordillainsura was under the influence of the Long Sleep, Chrys was honorbound to wake the agate. It was time to move their plans forward.

The sight of the black, waterlogged vegetation turned his stomach, but the overpowering stench of the steamy swamp in high summer was worse. It very nearly forced the pyrite to abandon his course and fly on to Prydein to meet with Jorrduliannsa. How could the agate stand it here?

Summoning a stream of power from his alternate source, he cleaned the air before it entered his nostrils, filling it with the scents of dry earth, green leaves, and rock-walled hot springs.

He breathed easier.

Coming to the agate’s lair, he circled the spot several times. He focused his gaze on the ground around the lair entrance, alert for any signs of life. For any activity, draconic or otherwise.

There were none, however.

With a deep breath, he came in to land within a wingspan of the lair entrance. He approached slowly, wondering that it was in such plain view.

How is it that no humans have stumbled upon it? he wondered. Then a darker thought came, I do hope he remembered to allow me access.

With only faint trepidation, he moved past the latticework of vines— which gave surprisingly little resistance —into the downward sloping stone corridor which led into the agate’s lair.

Inside, the place was untouched by time. Not a single speck of dust marred the pristine floor. No animal tracks and no stray scents belied the solitude.

In the center of the chamber, Vordillainsura lay on his side, one claw clutching the black-hafted Dragon Scepter. He snored peacefully, as though in the throes of a long-deserved nap after a hard day’s exertions.

Chrys stepped closer and felt a piece of himself melt away and vanish. He cried out in agony.

Yanking his head this way and that, he found nothing untoward had happened. Nothing had harmed him. Yet something was not right. Something was missing.

He directed his attention inward and instantly he found what was amiss and wondered at it for the briefest of moments before realizing the reason for it.

He had not been attacked. He was not wounded. His extra source of power had been severed when he moved closer to the agate.

Of course he would do something like that, Chrys thought. Hopefully I can reacquire them when I’m done here.

Shrugging, he directed his attention back to the agate.

Sleeping peacefully. Might it not be easier to just leave him to it and let him wake only when everyone has awakened?

He shook his head, disparaging. He’d made a commitment to do this, and by Ryujin and his first ancestor, he would do so.

With no further delay, Chrys delved into his Apex and summoned forth the stream of power needed to power this ritual. Directing it outward in widening bands, he spoke the ritual words. As was specified, he repeated the steps of the ritual seven times before sending his power surging into the agate’s body. The arcane power delved into the wyrm to reawaken his body and reconnect it to his mind.

He activated Arcane Sight and watched the power course through the agate’s form.

The bright red power made several circuits of the agate’s body, growing brighter with each revolution.

At last, the power dissipated, absorbing into the agate’s still form. Chrys watched, but nothing further happened.

The black form remained inert, but now it wasn’t even breathing!

“Oh, gods, what did I do wrong?” Chrys said in a panic. “I’ve killed him! What did I do?”

The wyrm paced the floor in frustration. How could this have happened? What did he do wrong?

He paced faster, racing from one side of the cavern to the other. How could this have happened?? He didn’t understand what he did wrong!

“Will you stop that infernal pacing,” a rasping voice growled. Chrys froze mid-step.

Turning his head, he found Vordillainsura standing, glaring at him with gummed, bloodshot eyes.

“Y-you’re awake…”

The agate growled deep in his chest. “Of course I am. What have you been doing?”

“I came straight here, my lord.”

Towering over him, the black-scaled wyrm smiled darkly. The expression made Chrys’s scales crawl. “Good. We’re behind schedule, so let’s get started.”

Thank you for reading!

I really appreciate you taking the time to read my story.

If you feel so inclined, I would love it if you left me a review on GOODREADS.

If you haven’t read it yet, you can continue the tale for free in The Awakening (http://books2read.com/MS1-theawakening)

Connect with me:

www.twitter.com/kpotterbooks
www.facebook.com/kpotter.fiction and www.facebook.com/groups/kpotter.calamity
www.kevinpotterauthor.com
or send an email to kevin@kevinpotterauthor.com

Other books by Kevin Potter

THE CALAMITY;

The Calamity, Prequel 1: The Fall of an Overlord (http://books2read.com/overlord)

The Calamity, Prequel 2: Rise of the Overlord (http://books2read.com/rise-of-the-overlord)

The Calamity, Volume I: Shadow of the Overlord (http://books2read.com/calamity1-shadow)

The Calamity: Beginnings (Rise of the Overlord+ Shadow of the Overlord) (Coming Soon)

BLOOD OF THE DRAGONS;

Blood of the Dragons, Volume I: Metal and Stone 1: The Awakening [FREE] (http://books2read.com/MS1-theawakening)

Blood of the Dragons, Volume I: Metal and Stone 2: Fire and Ice (http://books2read.com/MS2-fireandice)

Blood of the Dragons, Volume I: Metal and Stone 3: Blood and Scales (http://books2read.com/MS3-bloodandscales)

Blood of the Dragons, Volume I: Metal and Stone 4: The Age of Extinction (http://books2read.com/MS4-ageofextinction)

Blood of the Dragons, Volume I: Metal and Stone 5: The Great Council (coming soon)

Blood of the Dragons, Volume I: Metal and Stone (the Metal and Stone collection) (http://books2read.com/BoD1-metalandstone)

Blood of the Dragons, Volume 2 (Coming Soon)

OTHERS:

Glimpses (books2read.com/u/3yZkLL)

Angel of Death (http://books2read.com/angel-of-death)

About the author

Hello, reader! (sorry to defy conventions, but I can't stand writing about myself in the third person. It's just weird.)

I spend a good portion of my time masquerading as dragons larger than some cities, but when I'm not doing that I like to spend my time picking people's brains.

No, no, I don't mean learning from their experiences, I like the taste of brain matter!

Okay, okay, I'll try to be serious for a minute (I can't promise for more than one minute though).

I've been a storyteller for almost as long as I can remember. It started when I was nine. In school, we had an assignment to write a one-page short story. That night, I wrote a nine-page "masterpiece" about a magical pair of shoes and their journeys throughout the western United States before finding an owner who would properly care for and appreciate them.

From there, my storytelling grew into DMing D&D games (and other roleplaying games).

Naturally, the games eventually led me to start writing stories. My first book (okay, really just a novella) is a labor of love that really isn't finished yet. It's called "The Fall of an Overlord" and is currently in its fifth version, with the sixth and final one coming later in 2018.

The first version was a one-page summary of a historical event in my fictional world, Val-Harra.

From there, it grew into a seven-page short story.

Shortly thereafter, however, I realized there was a lot more backstory to the event. So I expanded it again, this time into a twenty-five-page long-ish short story.

Again though, I realized there was more to the story. I rewrote it again, this time with a new character involved to flesh things out, and it became a fifty-two page novelette.

At that point, I envisioned the whole story (my series, The Calamity) as a series of twelve to fifteen short stories of around 25-50 pages each that I would eventually publish as a single volume to tell the complete story.

But... that didn't work out, as I realized there was so much more story when I sat down to revise the novelette.

So here we are. I have "The Fall of an Overlord" at over one-hundred-fifty pages, which is only one half of the original story (okay, more like a third).

The second part of the original story is my second publication, "Rise of the Overlord." (which is fully complete and will not be expanded)

(yes, I realize the titles seem backward. Once you read them, you'll see that it actually does make sense)

Recently, I've realized (again!) that "Fall" is not complete. There is much more story there that I have in my head but never made it onto the page. And since readers have been clamoring for more of the story and that world, I'm expanding the novella once more into a full-fledged epic fantasy novel (likely to be 500+ pages) which will be the conclusion of a separate series entitled “Blood of the Dragons.”

You can thank me when it's finally finished.

If everything goes as planned, the Blood of the Dragons series should be published in its entirety by the end of 2018.

Back to the moral of this story, though.

The length I originally envisioned for the entire Calamity series has already been overtaken just by the two short books I have.

The next one, which should be released in August 2018, is already longer than both of them combined! Obviously I have a problem with keeping to shorter lengths!

But let's face it, in the world of Epic Fantasy, this is rarely a bad thing. I hope you enjoy the stories.

Oh, wait, this was supposed to be about me and not just my stories, right?

Well, okay.

I’m not a full-time author (yet), though I am hopeful. Professionally, I’ve done everything from technical support to restaurant management to building custom gaming PCs.

I live in Cottonwood Height, UT, with my wife and two beautiful daughters who I’m certain are much smarter than me.

Did I miss anything? Is there something you’d like to know about me or my work? Feel free to reach out to me via email or social media. Sometimes I get busy, but I try to respond to every message promptly.

Thanks again for reading, I hope to see you on Facebook or in my newsletter.

Table of Contents

- TIMELINE OF EVENTS
- PROLOGUE
- CHAPTER ONE
- CHAPTER TWO
- CHAPTER THREE
- CHAPTER FOUR
- CHAPTER FIVE
- CHAPTER SIX
- EPILOGUE
- thanks for reading
- Connect
- other books
- about the author